Well, the snow has started and the temp has dropped. Talk about depressing. A tree would make it bearable, but I don't have one.

My plan to eat my way through the hols has started with Pop-Tarts, brown sugar cinnamon.

Rose thinks a mother is the heart of the family. Not at my house. My father was the sane one. Mother was an abuser from way back. I used to lie in bed dreading her coming home from work at night to punish us for some minor ****up.